Brewer's Tale, The Read Online Free PDF

superiority, her long neck with its horizontal lines. Master Makejoy refused to look at either of us and pretended to reread the contents of the deed.
    I could hardly believe that we’d be thrown out of the house; that this dark, sometimes joyless place, where there’d been life, terrible secrets, dreadful pain, some joy and too much death, could be taken away — and why? Because an agreement had come to an end. Because of business.
    I needed time to think, to find a solution to this new problem.
    Moving quickly, I forced Hiske to jump to one side. ‘Cousin Hiske, Master Makejoy, I wish to thank you for your unexpected offer. I would like some time to consider it.’
    â€˜But, Mistress Sheldrake,’ Master Makejoy rose and, with what he thought was a benevolent smile, addressed me, ‘I don’t think you understand the position you’re in. How precarious it is.’
    â€˜Master Makejoy, I understand all too well. And, as a consequence, I intend to take as much time as I’m able before I make any decisions.’
    â€˜There’s only one to make, cousin.’ Hiske folded her arms beneath her breasts.
    I met her gloating gaze without flinching. ‘Perhaps,’ I said and, with a small nod to Master Makejoy and a last glance at Hiske, I kept my despair contained and left the room.

THREE

    ELMHAM LENN
    The day after Michaelmas to the Nones (7th) of October
    The year of Our Lord 1405 in the sixth year of the reign of Henry IV
    I ’d barely time to think about our circumstances as the news spread of Papa’s death and the loss of the Cathaline . After leaving our house, Master Makejoy rode into town and delivered an account to the merchants’ guild, and to the Kontor or offices of the Hanseatic League. As it was market day, it didn’t take long for word to circulate. From warehouse worker to landlocked sailor, vendor to customer, innkeeper to delivery boy, the usual moaning about taxes and the king’s wars and the price of wool was ­momentarily ­suspended — Elmham Lenn was suddenly the centre of its own tragedy. Swept up in an emotional maelstrom, I accepted commiserations and outpourings of sympathy as neighbours and strangers arrived at our door. I also offered consolation — for we were not the only family to be affected by the ship’s sinking. Over forty men had been lost to the sea; other families also felt the loss of a provider, of a husband, son or brother, of relatives and friends, with a profound yet numbing sorrow, and I ached for these people as well.
    Above all, the twins’ welfare was my first consideration, and every spare moment was spent with them. While I expected tears and outbursts, both Karel and Betje displayed the pragmatism of the very young, accepting the news with quiet grace and sadness, before looking to Louisa and me to provide their next distraction. Their faith in the patterns of the everyday would have been amusing if it weren’t so simultaneously heart-wrenching and comforting. Denied first their mother and now their father, I promised myself I would serve as both for as long as the good Lord allowed, no matter what Hiske threatened.
    My next priority was the servants. They already knew what had occurred before I told them. Will, of course, had learned the nature of Lord Rainford’s missive — having fetched me to the office, he pressed his ear to the door before racing straight to the kitchen and telling whoever was there. I knew it would only be a matter of time before the servants also knew of Lord Rainford’s intention to reclaim the house, and I wanted to be sure they heard it from me first. My reassurances that I would find work so they were neither thrown to the mercy of the street nor Cousin Hiske were grasped as a drowning man does driftwood. But the smiles that broke through the weeping and anxiety failed to conceal their doubt. What could a woman, an eldest daughter with no